


blood and stars

by venndaai



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien POV, Alien/Human Relationships, Breathplay, Dynamic - villains in love, Other, Space Pirates, Violence - Arousal from killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venndaai/pseuds/venndaai
Summary: Everyone who made a living in deep space knew they were gambling with their lives every time they set out.
Relationships: G: Human Space Pirate/Alien Partner in Crime (OW) - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Darkest Night 2020





	blood and stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aunt_zelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/gifts).



Everyone who made a living in deep space knew they were gambling with their lives every time they set out. The captain on the Summer’s Day told herself she’d known the dangers. She’d known that the smuggling routes between the Golden Tyranny’s furthest flung colonies were the predation zones of alien pirates, relics of the last great interstellar war. She’d weighed the risks and made a choice. For herself and for her crew.

Their blood now spattered the decks of the Summer’s Day, painting it shades of dull turquoise, brightening to blue as the emergency lights flashed. The captain could see the body of her second in command, her hatch sister, floating in the doorway of the cabin. A booted foot kicked it aside, casually, as though it was no more than a pile of rags. 

The captain tightened her fingers on her gun and moved it upwards, thinking  _ at least everything will be over soon. I hope my successor in the Cycle will die a less stupid death.  _ A strange calm had settled over her.

Then she caught a good look at her boarder, and the calm fractured and imploded into dust. 

If there was one positive thing that could be said for the infamous raider Zarazza, it was that she knew how to promote her image. Every spacefarer’s nightmares were haunted by the spiral patterns engraved on that sleek black exoskeleton, the prosthetic sixth limb with its buzzing saw extension, the huge, terrifying rifle slung over her back. Each of these individual puzzle pieces, though intimidating, weren’t overwhelming on their own. Even putting them together wasn’t the problem. Zarazza had a reputation for cruelty, but she wasn’t feared for her own sake. She was feared because of who she brought with her. 

“Ah,” Zarazza said, brightly, hooking one limb through a wall handhold and casually floating in the cabin entrance. The body she’d kicked aside kept drifting back, the captain noticed morbidly, and Zarazza kept absent-mindedly flicking it away. “You must be the captain! I’m so glad to make your acquaintance.”

The captain raised her gun, and tried to make her hands stop shaking. 

Zarazza’s eyes focused in on the gun, and then two of them darted down to her chest. To the silver pins on her jacket. “Ah,” Zarazza said, “a veteran!” There was delight in her vibrations. She tapped her earpiece with a free hand. “Darling,” she said, her voice changing to a sultry pitch, “I’ve found one for you.” 

The captain felt the weapon drop from suddenly nerveless fingers. 

She heard it a moment later. Sounds of impact from a heavier body descending the central shaft. A hatch opening. And then, she saw it. 

People feared Zarazza because she was partnered to a mad alien monster. 

The captain had always held to the belief that myths held power because of the gaps left for the imagination to fill. But actually seeing the reality, she felt no less terrified. Her eyes blinked randomly, but couldn’t defend her from the sight of bare exposed muscles, monstrously thick and powerful-looking limbs, hands that looked like they could snap her exoskeleton like a twig. 

“You’re so good to me,” the monster said, the words distorted by that alien mouth, those jutting calcified spines of ectoderm. It was a parody of speech, and the captain knew it was a performance for her benefit. 

“Anything for you,” Zarazza said, and brushed a finger across that revoltingly soft face. Her finger came away dripping with blood. 

The captain was starting to think out of everyone on this doomed voyage, she’d been the most unlucky.

Hands yanked at her uniform- Zarazza’s hands, four of them- tugging her sharply through the air, close enough that she could breathe in the monster’s scent, nauseatingly acrid and coated with the tang of blood. 

“What do you want,” the captain whispered. It was an effort to speak through the mindless panic of terror. 

“Many things you can’t give me,” the monster said, and then its stubby, moist fingers were touching the captain’s face, tilting her head up, smearing blood across her jaw. The captain thought she could feel her flesh crawl beneath her shell. “And some that you can.” 

And the edges of the wet mouth tilted upwards.    
  
  


The body hung in the center of the room, fluids pooling in globules around it. Zarazza plucked the silver pin from its jacket, and then pushed it out of the way. Dom was sitting cross-legged on the bed, boots hooked under its edge to keep them pressed to its surface. Zarazza made a little chirping noise, enough to recall Dom from whatever waking dream they were moving through. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yes,” Dom said. Their eyes were cold as vacuum. 

Zarazza darted over to Dom’s side, and spread two of her limbs across those broad shoulders, bending her head to tuck it beneath the Terran’s neck. “Tell me again,” she purred. 

She felt a muscle twitch in Dom’s neck, and reveled in the sensation. Terrans were so exposed. Touching them was always so visceral. “Tell you what?” Dom murmured, in their strange Terran language. Zarazza was still so proud of herself for learning it, though speaking it was anatomically beyond her. 

“Tell me why you’ll kill me last,” Zarazza prompted. 

“I’ll never kill you,” Dom said. “You’re too much fun.” 

“Hmm,” Zarazza said. “What if I stop being fun?”

There were suddenly hands on her chest, grabbing her, flipping her around so the two of them were face to face. She felt those hands sliding up over the plates of her skin, up to the delicate vulnerable join of her neck. Zarazza shivered in delight at the sensation of restrained strength. 

“You could never stop being fun,” Dom said tenderly.

“I did kill oh so many Terrans in the war,” Zarazza said, sliding a claw teasingly up the Terran’s side, feeling the soft skin split beneath her touch. “You should take your revenge on me too.” 

The hands tightened. Zarazza wheezed, lungs straining for breath, the armor plates on her neck suddenly cutting sharply into the softness around her collar. Dom leaned in, and Zarazza heard the rasp of tongue on unfeeling chitin as the Terran licked all the way up to her ear hole. “You still haven’t had enough yet?” Dom whispered. 

“Never,” Zarazza gasped, as her vision darkened. 

She woke in the blood spattered bed, acceleration gravity pressing her into the foam as the ship hummed around her. Her head rested on a warm shoulder. 

“Naughty,” she rasped as her eyes slowly opened.

“It’s a nice ship,” Dom said. “Better than the last one. Why not take it?”

“You don’t make operations decisions on this crew,” Zarazza reminded them. “Do I need to discipline you?” 

“I’m sure I can satisfy my captain some other way.” A hand stroked down Zarazza’s neck, pressing just hard enough for her to feel the bruises. “She’s so good to me, after all.”

“I am,” Zarazza said, and she pulled the pin from her belt, and fastened it carefully to Dom’s jacket, where it sparkled, another star on a wide glittering sky. 


End file.
